


The First of Many

by olddarkmachine



Series: 12 Days of ODM [7]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, First Christmas, Fluff, Traditions, literally just soft christmas fluff yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-13 23:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” She asked, her words forming clouds between them. “I always felt like I was in a Christmas story when I was here.”Gajeel’s nod was quick as he agreed, ruby eyes reflecting the lights stretched around them. A sadness hung around him as he continued to look at anything else but Levy, causing her stomach to drop.“Is something wrong?”“No, Shrimp,” he said after a moment, finally turning his attention to her with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I’ve just never really celebrated Christmas before.”





	The First of Many

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to: [ @tanasha91 ](tanasha91.tumblr.com)
> 
> Prompt: Gajeel’s first Christmas

_Christmas lights were wound around the otherwise bare branches of the trees lining Magnolia’s town square, creating a warm glow that wrapped around the bark. Different carts and booths were scattered across the open area, each one with swirling script written across boards proclaiming whatever it was that they were selling. As Levy stood in the middle of it all, her eyes scanning over the square, lit almost as brightly as the lights as she tried to decide her plan of attack. It was her favorite time of year, when the square was lit and the Winter Festival began, each night different vendors bringing baked goods, warmed ciders and hot chocolate, and handmade gifts._

 

_Each year since she’d arrived at the guild, the older members would take the younger members out to the square to explore what there was to be offered, and ever since she had loved it. Even now, hands wrapped around the warm cup of hot cocoa, she felt her heart swelling against the back of her ribcage._

 

_Of course, that probably also had something to do with the dragon slayer standing beside her, arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulling her into his side._

 

_The glow from the lights had softened his usually hardened features until they were molten. Gajeel was always going on about how beautiful she was, but he never gave himself enough credit. He was made entirely of jewel cut lines, and he was all hers._

 

_“It’s pretty, don’t you think?” She asked, her words forming clouds between them. “I always felt like I was in a Christmas story when I was here.”_

 

_Gajeel’s nod was quick as he agreed, ruby eyes reflecting the lights stretched around them. A sadness hung around him as he continued to look at anything else but Levy, causing her stomach to drop._

 

_“Is something wrong?”_

 

_“No, Shrimp,” he said after a moment, finally turning his attention to her with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I’ve just never really celebrated Christmas before.”_

 

***

 

The admission had come with complete nonchalance, as if Gajeel had spoke of something as small as never having had a certain food, or never reading a certain book. It hung between them for barely a moment before he’d moved on to the topic of the cider he had ordered, the weight of his statement dissipating quickly from his mind.

 

Levy, however, could not say the same.

 

It had been nearly two weeks since they’d gone to the Winter Festival and the words had twisted themselves around her mind in an unending tempest that haunted her. Even now, snuggled into a nest of their bedding and pillows that she had arranged around the fire, they were a repeated metronome in her head.

 

_I’ve just never really celebrated Christmas before._

 

It shouldn’t have been much of a shock to hear that Gajeel hadn’t ever celebrated the holiday. Dragons and Dark Guilds hardly seemed like the types to cultivate a festive environment. Coupled with the fact that jobs and fights had seemed to keep the iron dragon slayer preoccupied for just about every holiday since he’d joined Fairy Tail, Levy should not have found it so shocking to hear that he’d never celebrated. 

 

The thought of it dredged up a slow burning sadness that had eaten away at the bits between her lungs and her ribs like tree rot. Everyone deserved to have a happy holiday, no matter what their past. Had Gajeel not atoned enough for his past sins?

 

Had he not proven himself worthy of the simple joy of Christmas?

 

Yes, everyone deserved to have a happy holiday, and dammit, Levy was going to make sure he had a great first one.

 

The only problem was, she hadn’t entirely been sure of how to do that. Her own Christmases had revolved around the guild for so long that her own holiday celebrations had fallen to the wayside, the only one still holding up being the book that was clutched in her fists. Before she had come to the guild as an orphan, her parents used to sit with her on Christmas Eve with the very same copy and take turns reading out to her the story of how Christmas came to be. 

 

After they’d died, she’d clung to the book and its story as if it were a lifeline, the only thing left of the only family she’d ever known until she found one within the open arms of the guild. Yet every year, on Christmas Eve, she still pulled out the book and fell into its comfortable embrace.

 

Reading the words on the pages felt almost like coming home.

 

It also felt like the answer she was looking for as her honeyed eyes scanned the swirling script that was etched in black ink over the page.

 

“What ya doing, Shrimp?” Gajeel’s voice was smokey, filled with burning oak and crackling flame as it pulled her from her thoughts. Looking up through the veil of her blue bangs, Levy saw her iron dragon standing over where she sat, a smile carving parentheses into his cheeks. The flickering of the fire before her danced over his skin, casting its yellow glow onto him. 

 

It made him warm. Almost as warm as the heat that always rolled through her veins when she looked at him. It was something caught between heat lightning and a supernova. 

 

“I was just about to read a Christmas story,” she said simply, pushing herself to the side of the nest she’d created and opening a space beside her. “Want to join?”

 

Only a moment passed before he was making his way around the blankets and pillows, not bothering to answer as he set himself carefully into the fold of the nest. The soft scent of sage and metal curled around them as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest.

 

“I would love to,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper as if to not disturb the thickening air around them.

 

Shifting in his hold so that her back aligned with the length of his chest, Gajeel curved his body around her in a protective arc, a contented rumble vibrating through him and shaking them both.

 

“Comfy?” She asked as she flipped back to the first page, more for the painted scene stretched across the page than the words. Those she had memorized.

 

Heat spread down the back of her neck and through her as Gajeel pressed his nose into her crown, breathing her in as he held her against him.

 

“Mmhm,” he hummed. 

 

“Good,” Levy smiled before launching into the tale of Christmas’ origin. As the story fell from her lips, colored by the same golden glow of the fire before them, they both became wrapped in its magic. Without ever saying it, Levy threw all of her love into the story, weaving its tale before Gajeel until he could feel the cool brush of the snow and see the gleaming kingdom of Christmas stretched before him.

 

Together, they lost themselves in the words of her favorite tradition, and each other. It was there, the mounting blush of sweetness tinging their cheeks red and their own affections settling them into a tenderness softer than the nest they’d rested in, that they pieced together a whole new tradition all their own.

 

It was there, as Gajeel listened to Levy tell the story with rapt attention, never daring to look away from her rose petal mouth and honey eyes, that they both saw their futures, tucked within the words of the story. Years would pass, and they would continue to wrap themselves in blankets and each other on Christmas Eve and read the tale of the holiday’s beginnings. 

 

Visions of their Christmases to come were carried through her voice, revealing their family as they carried on the tradition in front of the fire with the then worn book, its pages tearing from its spine but never losing its enchantment.

 

There, with Christmas Eve bleeding into Christmas morning and Levy’s story carrying out before them like a song, they had their first of many more to come.

 

**************************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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